


Walk through the valley of death

by Tashilover



Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Sidney!Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8373859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: Sidney gets captured by some thugs and gets beaten up. A whump! fic.





	1. Chapter 1

Sidney breathed slowly through his nose. He didn't think it was broken, but the smell of blood was overwhelming. He could taste it in his mouth, feel it sticking to his clothes every time he shifted. Gingerly he moved his wrists. Sharp pain echoed up his entire left arm. The ropes binding his wrists were too tight and if he didn't get them off soon, they were going to cut off his circulation.

Lord, he wished he had some water. His throat was killing him.

His arms were killing him as well. His legs, his chest- everything hurt. It's been a while since someone's given him a beating of a lifetime. Mrs. Mcguire was going to have a field day with him. Mother him to death, she will.

 _That's assuming you get out of here alive_ , his brain added on darkly.

Achingly Sidney lifted his head. The room he was in was pitch black and smelled faintly of moth balls. His only light source came from underneath the door. Occasionally someone would walk past, their shadow dancing across the floor. It was also a stupidly small room; a broom closet or something, he didn't know. He could barely stretch out his legs.

Sidney pulled on the bindings. "C'mon," he muttered. "C'mon..."

Oh god, it felt like he was going to tear off his hands. He kept going, determined to get loose. He didn't want to die here, in the dark, alone.

He could feel blood trickling down his hands. He gritted his teeth, continued pulling as hard as he could-

Suddenly the bindings loosened. Sidney gasped.

At first he didn't believe it. His hands were numb, but as he slowly brought his arms forward, the ropes fell away. He groaned at the sight of them. His wrists were shredded and bruised to all hell. If they looked this bad, he feared how they really were in full light.

He got up. The muscles in his back, his arse, his legs, all spasmed at the same time. Sidney bit his lip, keeping in the gasp of pain.

It wasn't just sore muscles. He was pretty sure some of his ribs were broken too. Sidney wasn't used to feeling so weak, so helpless. He's always been a tall man. He had large hands, a strong back, and had wrestled back in school. Now that he was on his feet, he felt lightheaded. He willed himself to not faint. The last thing he needed was to fall unconscious in this damn place.

He reached out and grasped the door handle. It was locked.

Of course it was locked, it wouldn't be that easy, would it? Sidney shuffled forward, pressing his ear against the wood.

On the other side he could hear the faint noise of a television set. It was too far away to hear any of the dialogue, but the audience laughter was evident. Sidney stepped back.

Broken ribs and bruises aside, he was confident he could kick down this door easily. A single good kick would do. But if he wasn't fast enough, if he didn't do it hard enough, he could get caught within seconds, lose his small window of opportunity. He had to do this.

One, two, THREE-

Sidney kicked out as hard as he could. His foot slammed against the door, splintering the wood, practically shattering it on impact. The door swung violently open, and he shoved himself out, running for it. He remembered briefly the layout of the house when they first dragged him in. He was brought in through the kitchen, then shoved into what he presumed was the broom or coat closet.

At the sound of the crash, three voices ranged out in surprise. Two of them were from the living room where the television was, and the last two came from upstairs. Sidney ignored them and ran for the back door in the kitchen.

There were three locks on the door. Fucking _three_. He undid the chain lock quickly, the bolt just as easily, but his fingers were too slick with blood to grasp the little lock on the knob.

He was slammed into from behind, knocking the wind out of him. He could hear the crunch of his ribs moving in this chest. Forget the pain, _that_ was the worst feeling in the world.

He fell to the floor, the man who crashed into him landing right on top. Sidney struggled weakly, gasping desperately for breath.

"No-!" He croaked out as he felt hands grabbing at his arms and pulling them behind his back. "Get off! No!"

"Shut up!" One of the men yelled. They grabbed Sidney by the rough of his neck, hauling him up to his feet. "You're goddamn lucky we ain't killing you!"

Should Sidney take that as a relief that they weren't planning to kill him? He wanted to ask if they were using him to ask for ransom or something, but he couldn't speak. They hauled him around like a rag doll, jerking him every time he resisted even a little. They shoved him down upon a chair, startling a horrid cry of pain out of him.

"Now be a good little vicar and stay here."

He tried to get back up and was slugged across the cheek for it.

"STAY."

He was staying. His face hurt too much to try again. He was pretty sure that last punch loosened a tooth in his mouth.

Blood was oozing out of his lips, staining the front of his trousers. His clothes may be black, but the blood was still going to leave a visible stain.

The men came back with more rope. They tied him quickly to the chair and this time Sidney didn't resist.

He could barely breathe. His chest felt like a water balloon, his hands were aching terribly and his head was burning. Was he on fire? He was pretty sure he was on fire.

"He doesn't look too good." Were they talking about him? "I think that last hit rattled something loose."

"Just make sure he stays conscious. Can't use him if he's dead."

So they were keeping him alive for a reason. The longer this went on, the more Sidney was convinced it wasn't ransom. If not for money, then he was just a hostage, a body needed for leverage. For what, though?

"Why..." Sidney coughed. Ugh, his whole mouth tasted of blood and it was disgusting. "Why am I here?"

One of the men grinned. "It's not you we want, mate. It's your inspector friend."

"Geordie? Why?"

"What else? To kill him."


	2. Chapter 2

Sidney tried to think about Jesus.

As part of his studies to become a priest, Sidney studied intensely the effects of crucifixtion. People didn't die from the trauma or the blood loss, they died from exposure, from suffocation. Having the arms spread out like that put intense pressure on the diaphragm, making it hard to breath. It forced the poor person to constantly pull themselves up just to breathe. If they happened to survive that, if they had enough energy to pull on their torn muscles, then they had to deal with the smell of rotting flesh all around them, the sounds of hundred of others wailiing on their crosses, the horror of knowing no one was coming to save them.

The research had given Sidney nightmares for days. Death was one thing, but the thought of human suffering was unbearable.

Was it arrogant to compare his suffering to Jesus Christ? Probably. Sidney was in a great deal of pain, but he could survive this, recover from it given enough time.

He could survive these wounds. This was the mantra Sidney kept repeating over and over in his head. He shouldn't worry for himself. Push past the pain, ignore your own needs and focus on the true problem at hand: these men wanted to kill Geordie, and Sidney had to stop them.

Who were these men and what did they want with Geordie? It didn't take grand leaps of logic to assume they probably had a grudge against the inspector. Sidney was sure Geordie gained a reputable amount of enemies who wanted him dead. Even as a vicar, Sidney himself had a number of people in the village who would love to see him keel over. Last year when Miss Louise unexpectedly sent him a carrot cake, he threw it away. A day later he found birds had got into the bins, ate some of the cake and died. Coincidence or not, Sidney was even more wary of Miss Louise from then on.

But the bigger question was what was Sidney going to do to stop these men from harming Geordie? At the moment he's tied to a chair, beaten and bloodied, and one of the men was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a dirty magazine while drinking a bottle of coke. Sidney had to find a way to get loose, incapacitate that man, escape, and get to Geordie first.

Right. As easy as pie.

("Ha!" He heard Mrs. Mcguire's voice in his head. "Pie? You're a terrible cook! This is why you need a wife, otherwise you'll only survive on beans and toast!"

She wasn't wrong.)

Sidney swallowed. His entire mouth tasted like blood. "What are you reading?"

The man at the table jerked his head up. "What?"

"What are you reading? It looks... interesting."

The man laughed. He held the magazine high enough to show off the cover better. On it was a brunette woman wearing a pin-striped bathing suit barely holding in her large breasts. "Do you even know what this is, vicar?"

Play dumb? Play dumb. "Is it fashion?"

"Oh my god! I knew you blokes were virgins, but I assumed you've seen a woman at some point!"

Good lord he was actually buying it. "You don't need to make fun of me."

"Ha!" The man stood up, grabbed a chair and pulled it over to sit in front of Sidney. Eagerly he opened the magazine and showed off the center fold. "Take a good look at this!"

The picture showed of a naked blonde woman laying on a white rug with only a small blue blanket covering her genitals. Despite himself Sidney blushed. He hasn't looked at a dirty picture since he was teenager when he used to look at naked women in his father's medical books. During the war some of the boys passed around pictures of their favorite girls, but by then Sidney had already sworn off that particulair sin. "Oh my," he said, averting his eyes.

The man threw his head back and laughed. "Really? Really? You've got to be shitting me, vicar! You really are a virgin!"

He kept pushing the magazine closer and closer, practically shoving it into Sidney's face close enough to touch his nose. Sidney backed away as best as he could; not from embarrassment. He didn't want to touch the residue that laid within its pages. "Stop! You're embarrassing me!"

The man pulled back laughing. "I don't get it. How can you resist this?"

"It's not easy. Women think they can... cure me of my virginity."

He wasn't wrong. A lot of women believed they could go up to Sidney and grab him, thinking he would enjoy that. He got very good at repremanding these women and educating them on sexual harrassment.

The man waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You get a lot of attention?"

"I got more than my own share, yes. Doesn't help I'm a six foot ginger with a big nose."

That got another laugh. "I like you, vicar!" The man grinned, slapping his thigh as he said it. "I'm Thomas."

"It's good to meet you Thomas. I'm Sidney Chambers." Sidney licked his lips, prodding the drying blood achingly. "Thomas, do you mind if I could use the facilities to clean off the blood?"

Thomas shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, Sidney. I cannot do that. You'll just escape again."

"...Please? I really need to use the toilet."

"I can't, I'm sorry. You're going have to hold it. Look... I can get you some water, maybe some aspirin for the pain, but I can't loosen the ropes. Sorry."

Sidney sighed. "I understand."

Thomas stood up. "I'll get you that water."

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once read about the effects of crucifixtion on the human body, and it really is a horrible way to go. All the information presented is truth.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas got Sidney his water, but was unable to find aspirin. He was also kind enough to wet a rag to clean some of the blood off of Sidney's face. What Sidney really wanted to do was blow his nose. He's been breathing out of one nostril for a few hours now.

"Why do you hate Inspector Keating so much?" Sidney suddenly asked.

Thomas snorted. "Bastard sent me to jail. Because of him, I lost my job, my wife left me, and took my two daughters with her. And for what? Nothing! It's unfair."

"Nothing? Why would Inspector Keating send you to jail for nothing? What happened?"

"Well... I, uh, I smashed a bottle over some bloke's head. I didn't kill him, though! I didn't kill him. It was... uh... a moment of anger, y'know? We were both drunk. But Keating didn't want to listen to that, so he slammed me with an attempted murder charge. Attempted murder! I wasn't planning to kill the bastard, I just wanted to teach him a lesson!"

"But Thomas," Sidney tried to shift in his chair and his ribs hitched together. He groaned. "... look, it sounds like you made a mistake-"

"Damn right it was!"

"But you're about to make another one. Nothing good is going to come out of killing Inspector Keating. All you'll be doing is denying a wife her husband, and three very young children their father. You're a father, Thomas. You should understand more than anyone how devestating that is."

Thomas bowed his head, scrunching up his eyes as if in pain.

Sidney felt a surge of hope. He got through to him. "You can't let the others kill him. You know it's not right."

Thomas shook his head. "I can't... I'm in too deep..."

"No, you're not. You can still turn this around. Thomas, call Keating, tell him what has happened. Let me go, let me-"

"I-"

"HEY!" One of the other men walked into the kitchen. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Nothing, Bill," said Thomas.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

Bill walked over. He eyed them both suspiciously, and Thomas hunched in on himself, guilty. Bill turned to Sidney.

CRACK

Bill backhanded Sidney so hard, he saw stars. He shakily turned his head downwards, letting the blood dribble out of his mouth.

"Enough talking," Bill sneered. He turned to Thomas. "You know what's at stake here. Is a goddamn virgin worth losing all of that?"

Thomas kept his head down like a beaten dog. "No," he muttered.

"Fucking right."


End file.
